


The Misadventures of Loki Laufeyson and Magnus Bane.

by orphan_account



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It makes sense that at some point in the history of time, Magnus Bane and Loki Laufeyson would meet. And it seems only natural that they would have struck up a loyal if not unconventional friendship.</p><p>Each chapter is written as a one shot~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hair Gel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus teaches Loki the wonders of hair gel.

"And what in the name of all that is sacred do you call this?" The God frowned, bringing the fingers he had just coated in hair gel to his nose. Fruity. Why did it smell fruity? Strange. These mortal-ish sorcerers and their strange ways... 

"Hair gel." 

Obviously that got little from Loki but a quirked eyebrow and a, "So that is why your hair has such ridiculous spikes."

"Says the one who looks like a twentieth century rock band gone wrong." Despite the crinkle of amusement shadowing the warlock's ringed green eyes, Loki wasn't in any way amused by the reference. Because he should be taking fashion advice from a man who thought it acceptable to shower in purple glitter until he looked like he'd been in some accident on a disco ball production line? Not to mention the gaudy clothing, the waistcoat and the... was that a netted vest...? Oh, and let's not forget the tight denim... okay, perhaps Loki could not say much on the tightness of his jeans or the fabric of choice given his ways of donning leather but come on! Loki said nothing, simply scowling. 

Magnus looked on for as long as his patience would last as Loki curiously returned his attention to the pot in question, stroking some through a strand of his hair with a look of distain. 

"Oh for the love of... Come here." With that the god was forced into a chair and lacking a mirror he could not see what the warlock was doing to him. He had his concerns. Ordinarily his hair would not be touched by anyone whom he did not trust and even then the number was rare and frankly subject to being his mother alone. Occasionally Thor got to twirl a curled lock but it was with risk of being bitten. He had a sneaking suspicion that if he bit Magnus, he'd like it. 

It was fifteen minutes before the warlock behind him hummed in what Loki could only presume was thought - but did he ever think? He wasn't too sure given some of the things Magnus did - and walked away with a pleasant but forceful, "Don't move." Loki only obeyed because he was slightly nervous that the gunk on his hair would explode if he moved too suddenly. And he rather liked his head on his shoulders thank you very much. 

What came back with Magnus was a mirror. "Why didn't you just magic one up?" 

"Because I already stole all the mirrors from Home Depot and I can't remember where I put them."

"Did you try your bedroom?"

Regardless of how that conversation would have ended, likely in number lie sexual innuendoes, Loki was distracted quickly by his own appearance. Gone was the unruly waves of his hair and in place it was straight, not ridiculously so either for he seemed able to keep some volume and the ends flicked up in subtle ways. He looked... Good. 

"You are ahead of your time, Magnus Bane."

"I know."


	2. Magnus of Bane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus' sense of style is not appreciated in Asgard.

“Well, I did tell you to dress a little less ostentatiously.”

“I did!”

Loki quirked a brow, dragging a critical eye over the warlock. This was toning it down? He should have known. The man had neglected nothing of his appearance; his cheeks were flushed with make-up, his eyes ringed with black that he had claimed was acceptable for Asgard because of the kohl base deflecting the sun. His nails, of course, were painted in purple and looked to have been dipped in glitter like the rest of him – literally; he seemed to be leaving a trail of the stuff behind him, marking where he had been where it glinted in the sunlight. Yes, it was that which pushed the look overboard, Loki was sure. Magnus might actually have gotten away with the bright pink skinny jeans and customised – by way of ripping off the arms and doing up only the bottom button - Hawaiian t-shirt. Maybe. 

Loki sighed, “And I suppose you’d like me to get you out of here?”

“Maybe later. I’m thinking of redecorating my cell.” The scary thing was, Loki didn’t think he was joking and he got the horrible feeling that if he came back in ten minutes, the walls would be mirrored and draped in satin. 

A silence dragged on between them for a long moment. Neither man noticed. Loki was trying to figure out how to break Magnus out of his detainment and Magus… Well he really was thinking about giving the cell a paint job. It could be a decent destination with a lick of paint, he thought. Could throw a party down here. Wasn’t Chairman Meow’s birthday coming up? Maybe a homecoming? Or a going away party? Maybe just a party. Why the hell not? All it needed was a curtain, maybe some strobe lights… Oh! And finger food. He definitely needed something for his guests to eat, otherwise the werewolves would be eating the mundanes and…

Both men were torn from their thoughts by the creaking of the door opening. Well, a brief creaking for then it slammed. Loki half expected his idiot not-brother from that sort of display but it was merely an ordinary guard with the announcement: “You have been allowed trial before the Allfather. You may plead your case to him.” They were then led to the throne room where Loki dropped to one knee and moved one arm over his chest as the traditional sign of respect. 

“Kneel,” Loki hissed from his new position.

“In these jeans?!”

It was probably better that he did as he was told for once so he sighed and struggled to kneel as Loki had in front of the Allfather who at last nodded and granted them respect to stand again. Magnus wasn’t too pleased about that. All in the name of fashion.

“Announce yourself,” a guard beside Odin stated. Loki nodded first, willing to do so even though no one here would be dense enough to not know his identity.

“Loki Odinson.” For the purpose of being here, he figured his old name would be better used so as not to rock the boat. “Of Asgard.” He looked at Magnus, nodding to invite him to do the same.

“Uh… Magnus… of Bane!” 

Oh Lords.

“Bane?” The scribe looked puzzled.

“Yeah. You know. It’s near Spain. Where it doesn’t rain so it doesn’t have to drain. And the farmers with a brain tend to refrain from being vain.” Loki slapped the back of his head, hoping that would make him stop before he made a further fool of himself. If the warlock would just let him do the talking… “Now I’m in pain!”

If Odin didn’t order his death, Loki might have to kill him himself. 

“I think I have heard of Bane in Spain.” 

Loki should have realised he was adopted long ago when the people of Asgard came out with things like that but he supposed as long as they could move on from this idiocy, he was willing to accept the words of the warrior sitting on jury that Bane in Spain actually existed. The only Bane in Spain would be Magnus if he actually went there and in fact Loki didn’t think that way because of his last name. Sometimes he really did think he was the bane of his existence. But then, he did consider him something of a friend. It was a troubling relationship.

He cleared his throat, hoping that they could move on with the proceedings. 

“Magnus of Bane, you are tried with committing acts pertaining to Argr, how do you plead?”

“I’m gonna go not guilty. Sounds like the best bet. What’s Argr?”

“Femininity,” Loki hissed. “It is a crime here to mock men and... let’s just keep your questionable sexuality out of this hearing shall we?” 

“Right, got it… Still going to go not guilty. Look, Odin, baby, this is all one big misunderstanding. What you see before you is not the act of femininity or Argr or whatever you want to call it. This is _fashion_ and it is fabulous!”

Loki paused in his analysis of the size of the vein popping out of his not-father’s forehead to but into the conversation, shooting Magnus a scathing glare. That was no way to get out of a trial in which he could well lose his life! He had to rely on the law and talk his way out of it with intelligence not claiming to be fabulous. Loki’s word for it was ridiculous, not fabulous. 

“Allfather, if I might. Asgard is charged with the protection of Midgard and its people be they mortal or immortal. Magnus of Bane falls into the later category and thus is not only under the divine protection of our realm but a worthy ally of ours in the future conquests of Asgard. To punish him for something as insignificant as a poor fashion choice-“

“Fabulous fashion choice.”

Loki ignored the whisper from the disgruntled warlock and continued on. “Would not only be unjust but it would fall into a farce without proper cause. He has done nothing that explicitly breaks our laws. Might I bring up a time your own son wore a dress willingly for sake of concealment?” 

Knowing whether the Allfather flushed red with embarrassment or rage was a difficult one. 

“Furthermore, I should say that Magnus being here at all is an honour and perhaps a feast should have been a better welcome than throwing him into the dungeons! We will be leaving now. I trust you will see sense and not stop us.”

He turned Magnus forcefully around and marched him away, pausing for the guards, who seemed confused but with a glance towards the throne, parted their swords and let them pass. Loki refused to listen to a single word on how Magnus had it ‘covered’ and urged him onto his horse. They only had one unfortunately but Asgardian horses grew larger for the most part so they did both fit on the saddle. 

“This is why no one should ever take you to meet their parents,” Loki sighed.


	3. Chairman Meow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day Magnus took Loki kitten shopping.

Agreeing to go places with Magnus was something Loki really needed to stop doing. It always, always involved things that Loki wasn’t entirely comfortable with – like Midgardian creatures. He looked into the pen while the creatures Magnus called ‘kittens’ gathered, all vying for attention it would seem. They were all of similar sizes but showed little resemblance to each other; while one was beige and bordering ginger, another was black as the night. Loki narrowed his eyes at a grey kitten with white paws but when it mewed, he shrieked and stepped behind Magnus, who was of course in hysterics. Shamed, Loki stepped back out again and peered at the small animals, like lion cubs in miniature, he thought. 

“Remind me again why you believe getting a kitten would be worthy of our time?” he sighed, trying to distract Magnus from his own personal discomfort. 

Magnus’ response was to pick up a white fur ball (it took Loki almost half a minute to locate its eyes), rub between its ears and proclaim, “Because he –wait, she, sorry ma’am – is _so_ adorable!” He put the kitten down, apparently claiming that it was just _too_ fluffy for his apartment. Loki despised the white scrap of fluff and therefore didn’t remind Magnus of the ease in cleaning by magic. Loki even knew of a spell that would banish fallen fur altogether. Never mind. 

Magnus was clearly taking this very seriously. He was picking each cat up one by one. Loki would have thought he was weighing them if he did not know any better. 

“They have your eyes,” Loki mused. “Or you have theirs.” He never had understood these Midgardian warlocks who had no belly buttons and bore such obvious signs of their magic use. It was the same for the witches of old who practiced in the dark arts; their skin would be covered in taint. Thankfully Magnus was still attractive but… on the off chance he suddenly developed the ability to read his mind, Loki should banish that thought so as not to over inflate the warlock’s ego any more than it already was. 

A loud clatter from somewhere in the store spooked the kitten currently taking up residence in Magnus’ arms. The white thing with grey stripes let out a startlingly loud yowl and leapt, claws out and dug them into Loki’s front. In the domino effect, Loki cried as the claws sank through his thin silk shirt into his skin – it was hardly painful to a God but it was a surprise. 

“It’s attacking!”

He turned around a few times, trying to shake the kitten from his chest an then settled to try and wrench it off. “Magnus! I swear if you do not cease laughing and help me get this _thing_ off, Ragnarok shall be sooner than you ever wished it to be!” Perhaps calling it the end of the world because of a spooked kitten was too far but Loki was genuinely panicking. 

“Okay, okay, come on fraidy-cat.” He scratched the little kitten’s ears and gently took it back into his arms. “I want this one.” 

Loki scowled. “No.”

“My apartment, my rules… My cat. What shall we name him?” Magnus beamed, already having fitted a collar onto the tiny cat… That was fast… Loki doubted the creature would keep it on. It was a demon. It would burn off as it made its way through Hel, sharpening those claws for its next attack as it went. 

“You name your demons here?”

“He is not a demon! Don’t joke about demons! They don’t like it.”

“I’ll bet. But as soon as I meet one which actually poses a threat to me-“ He paused and glared at the kitten in his arms that had punctured his new shirt. “- I shall cease to joke on the matter. Regardless, I am not suggesting a name for your Hel-Cat.”

Magnus scowled but soon brightened as he held the kitten in front of his face, contemplating a name. “He looks like a Chairman Meow.”

“Please tell me you jest?”


	4. How We Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time they met of course... ish.

“Do you remember when we met, Magnus?”

The two were looking up at the stars. After the last incident in Asgard, Loki had been nervous to bring him back here but it really wasn’t as bad this time as they relaxed on the Bifrost, watching the cosmos above them. Magnus was almost blending in honestly. Only Magnus could blend in with a constantly changing rainbow bridge.

“Of course,” the warlock smiled, turning his head to look at him. Even his eyes seemed to be constantly changing colour but that was probably just the reflections from the bridge. “It was a Tuesday. Slightly breezy if I recall correctly.”

“You don’t. It was raining.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Definitely.”

“Are you two actually gonna tell the story or just argue over the weather conditions?”

Both Magnus and Loki turned to look, seeming to have forgotten that Alec was here at all, even though the whole reason to be in Asgard was to show Magnus’ new attraction the sights. Loki paused and glanced back at Magnus as though he was actually considering debating further whether it was raining or breezy.

“Come to think of it, perhaps it was both,” he conceded.

“You’re avoiding the subject. Magnus! Did you sleep with him as well?” Alec sighed.

Loki looked between them, mildly confused about what would be so bad about simply falling asleep beside the warlock, the true meaning of the slang lost on his Asgardian raised mind. “Well there was that one night…”

“Loki, shut up!”

“What? Remember when we went camping? We slept under the stars that night.”

“That is not what he means!” Loki sighed and shrugged, deciding to leave it alone if both of them were going to get so upset by the idea. Alec looked rather like he was going to explode, glaring at Magnus. Loki didn’t pretend to understand and simply sat back while the warlock consoled the shadowhunter. Eventually the subject was returned back to how they had actually met, which come to think of it wasn’t really the best story to try and tell when they were so argumentative at the moment. Magnus barely remembered it anyway.

Then again, Magnus had been drunk.

*

_It could be said that Loki was minding his own business. Then again, what wasn’t Loki’s business was always Loki’s business and therefore it could also be said that he was simply prying into things where he did not belong. But when had the youngest Laufeyson ever cared for that?_

_Technically he wasn’t even supposed to be on Earth at the time. He wasn’t supposed to even exist for another century or so but what better than for the God of Mischief to do than disrupt time itself? Granted he didn’t really plan on letting anyone know he was here. He’d just cause a little havoc and be on his way once again. That was the plan._

_The market places of old were really no place for the gods; filled with peasants and disease…_

__*

“Not everyone is diseased you know.” Loki scoffed and pushed him. He was telling the story his way for a time and he wouldn’t be interrupted again. Not that he could stop Magnus.

*

_He’d thought it a good idea to stop at one of these stalls. Far be it from him to steal anything – mostly because the state of the apples was frankly appalling – but to tease the merchant. He didn’t see why he shouldn’t after all._

_But lo and behold, when the merchant turned around, it was none other than Magnus. Already he had a casket of mead in his hands and his face was flushed a touch pink from the liquor he’d acquired beforehand… It was unexpected to say the least._

_Magnus grinned wide enough to put the Cheshire Cat to shame and offered the jug out, emerging from the stall and threw himself at the god._

__*

“I did _not_ throw myself at you!”

“Then you fell into me. Either way I am certain you ended up in my arms, blowing a cloud of your alcoholic breath in my face.”

“I smelt fine.”

“You smelt like someone tried to drown you in a fermenting tank. Now shut up.”

“No, you shut up. I’m taking over the story telling now! In fact maybe I should just start from the beginning!”

*

_Magnus was merry indeed. How much he’d drunk was not really accountable for but it didn’t matter. He was having fun. Some poor merchant had left him in charge of his stall while he went to visit his pregnant wife. A silly move really but he wasn’t to know who Magnus really was. To them he was a street urchin like the rest of them for those were the days when even Magnus was a young boy. But anyway, he was indeed drunk. Merry. Very, very merry. In fact to say that there was never nor could there ever be anyone to ever get so drunk since would be quite accurate._

“I get it, Magnus, you were drunk. Get on with how you met,” Alec groaned.

*

_Well Magnus remembered everything up until then; after that it was something of a blur and the next day he woke up in a seedy little room with a letter from none other than the God of Mischief himself, telling him to meet him at noon below the bell tower._

“And you never showed. You stood me up.”

“Of course I did. I didn’t even remember meeting you!”

“Then you should have come for an explanation! You will never know what happened the night you were drunk!”

“I’m gonna guess dancing and snogging wenches?” Alec muttered something about them both being whores, then tried to look innocent when Loki shot a murderous glare in his direction. 

“You’d think but no. And I will never tell you.”

“You mean you started this whole conversation about how we met and you’re not even going to tell me how we met?”

“… Yes. It passed the time did it not?”


End file.
